


To lead a better life, I need my love to be here

by orphan_account



Series: Nowadays you’re such a blur [2]
Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Existential Crisis, M/M, Neck Kissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-27
Updated: 2019-04-27
Packaged: 2020-02-07 09:50:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18618184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Seonghwa lives and breathes work, while Hongjoong sits at home waiting up for him.





	To lead a better life, I need my love to be here

Work’s been stressful. These days, Seonghwa is just a frustrated, unmoving presence in the dining room, hunched uncomfortably on the seat with his eyes wide and nearly bloodshot from staring at his laptop screen all day. He barely even sleeps anymore, barely makes a dent on the bed and lie down long enough to warm his spot. He doesn’t talk anymore, just lets out grunts and sighs as he leans back on his chair, slipping off his black framed glasses to run a hand down his face.

 

From the living room where the kitchen is overseen, Hongjoong watches, the drama on the television momentarily forgotten. He knows Seonghwa won’t listen. This has been going on for a few months now. The company’s been lying a lot of its weight on Seonghwa’s shoulders, employees constantly dropping more onto his workload and asking for _his_ help at the same time, because they’re _busy_ and they’re _at a loss_ on what to do despite being trained for all of these beforehand. Seonghwa neither has free time nor is he trained for the same things, but still, he’s one of the more respectable employees, so they all run to him. It’s frustrating, exhausting, but everyone expected it to happen.

 

Hongjoong honestly doesn’t know much about this company and its internal workings, because everything is strictly confidential there, and Seonghwa is a loyal man to everything and everyone he comes across. There’s also the fact that it’s part of the contract to always shut up. What Hongjoong does know, is that the company’s doing a major upgrade of some sort, supposedly done because a lot of their processes weren’t very ideal and the chief executive wanted something more stable, something that can survive in the long run. It’s a lot of work, and everyone is very confused and unused to all the sudden changes, so they ask Seonghwa for help.

 

Office hours end at 6 but Seonghwa doesn’t come home until an hour and a half later, walking into the house with his feet sliding lazily against the floor, and immediately making his way to the dining table where he sets his things to get back to work.

 

It’s already midnight when Seonghwa straightens his arms and legs as he stretches them, satisfied by the pop and the sensation that comes with it. Behind him, over at the living room, a gunshot rings through from their television. He looks over, finding Hongjoong’s slumped form, head tilted dangerously to the side and just a few snores away from falling to the armrest.

 

Seonghwa glances at his laptop, unanswered emails looking back at him, Hangouts conversations popping up on top of each other as new messages come in.

 

He supposes a break would be nice.

 

Gently, he slips out of the chair, putting his laptop on sleep mode to go back to later, and pads quietly to the sofa. Hongjoong has never been a light sleeper, but Seonghwa still takes extra care in making no noise and disturbances as he takes his place beside him. The springs inside the sofa complains under Seonghwa’s weight, but as expected, Hongjoong doesn’t stir, doesn’t even react at all.

 

Seonghwa places a hand on Hongjoong’s shoulder and pulls, to the opposite direction of where he is leaning and onto Seonghwa’s side, guiding his head to rest on his shoulder. Hongjoong lets out a hum, babbling something that Seonghwa doesn’t understand, and nuzzles closer.

 

More gunshots. Seonghwa turns his attention to the television, watches two men scream in pain, falling in a lifeless heap on the ground. A car screeches away, the man in the backseat leaning on the rolled down window, gun in hand. He has a fedora on, and a crisp grey suit speckled with blood. The scene momentarily fades to black, the living room dimming down with it, only illuminated by the kitchen lights from behind them.

 

Life...isn’t that fulfilling. Granted, Seonghwa is living under conditions better than most people, and he is thankful for that, because his hard work paid off, and everyone who scared him about failure were right for doing so. But now that he’s somewhere comfortable, everything just slowed down and all his progresses and achievements stopped feeling like anything.

 

Now, it just feels like he’s a mindless horse jumping hurdles from hurdles, working himself to the bone until the day he dies. He’s expressed this to people before, but he’s always told that he’s being pessimistic and he should just be thankful that he has food on the table at all.

 

He doesn’t want kids, but Hongjoong does. They’re engaged now, and talks about churches and marriages inevitably steer into having children. His future in-laws mention baby names and colleges casually like they aren’t burdened by the idea of bringing someone into existence just for them to serve the depressing, capitalist world.

 

They used to fight about it, but nowadays, on the rare occasion that it gets brought up, they just stare tiredly at each other and end it there.

 

That’s what their whole relationship is, now: a long, resigned sigh, empty arguments that start from nothing, tiptoeing around the other until they stopped listening to the creak of the floorboards.

 

This is what life is supposed to be, Seonghwa bitterly thinks, because adults aren’t supposed to be happy, and that’s supposed to be normal. His job and even his relationships are all spun together to make it look like he is living a satisfying life, but they all ring empty. He loves his job, but he doesn’t want to work like this for the rest of his life, be another cog in the machine.

 

He loves Hongjoong, he really does, but lately, everything has him questioning if he truly does. They won’t get this far if he doesn’t, that’s for sure, but he can’t help but wonder if he only keeps Hongjoong around because he adds up to the fantasy of an ideal life. The attraction is there, the concern is there, but there’s still a lingering fear that he sees Hongjoong as nothing more than a personal item that holds sentimental value.

 

They don’t even talk that much recently.

 

Hongjoong snorts, startling himself awake but not fully, eyes still half-lidded and unfocused as he sits up sluggishly, blinking around until he turns to look at Seonghwa. He rubs at his eyes, but Seonghwa catches his wrist. He whines.

 

“Don’t do that,” Seonghwa mumbles, and he can’t help it—with the way Hongjoong looks like a lost puppy when he’s barely awake, so small and cute and somehow more delicate-looking—he leans in to press a chaste kiss on his lips.

 

There’s a faint smile on Hongjoong’s lips when Seonghwa pulls away, but as soon as he’s leaning on the backrest again, it’s gone.

 

“Work?”

 

The laptop sits on the dining table, alone. Seonghwa shakes his head. “It can wait. I’ll continue it tomorrow.” He shouldn’t. The emails are urgent. His coworkers are desperately asking for his help. “The rush kind of died down.”

 

But Hongjoong looks satisfied, the smile back there again, and it reaches up to his eyes, bright and alive and much more awake than he is. “Carry me to bed.” He makes grabby hands at Seonghwa.

 

Seonghwa smiles, leaning in again, because it’s Hongjoong, and if it’s Hongjoong, he can’t help it. Distantly, he thinks, maybe this is it, the answer to all of life’s problems. He can’t help it, he’s weak just like that, tied around the younger’s small pinky finger. Hongjoong has been a constant in Seonghwa’s life, from when they first met as teenagers, to when they became best friends and eventually, lovers.

 

And that makes it so hard to just let go of him, because he holds all of the things that Seonghwa finds comfort in, because he’s been around for so long that Seonghwa doesn’t know any other. They have been intertwined in a way that they cannot be one without the other.

 

Seonghwa presses a kiss on Hongjoong’s lips, and then slips his tongue in, licking hungrily into his mouth. He covers the other’s body with his own, pushing him down onto the sofa, fitting himself between the legs that part readily for him.

 

When they pull away, Hongjoong breaks into giggles, arms around Seonghwa’s shoulders and legs around his waist.

 

“Carry me to bed,” Hongjoong demands. This time, it’s him who leans up and kisses Seonghwa. His humorous grin turns into the same small smile, fond, and his tone is softer, “I love you.”

 

“I love you too,” and Seonghwa snatches a kiss on Hongjoong’s neck, his sensitive,  _ sensitive _ neck. The boy flinches in surprise and squeaks.

 

And he can’t help it, he can never, it’s just impossible, so he buries his face against the smooth skin, kissing up to Hongjoong’s jawline, and then moving down to suck at the base of his throat. Hongjoong’s breath hitches, and it’s so  _ cute, _ the way he’s squirming underneath him.

 

“Hyung,” Hongjoong moans, when Seonghwa goes back to that one spot on the side of his neck, sucking harshly. “Do you _ —ah— _ only love me for my body?! Is-is that the only reason you’re marrying me?!”

 

Seonghwa doesn’t miss a beat. He pulls away momentarily, breath against the blooming hickey, and answers, deadpan, “Yeah. Wanted a cocksleeve.” He wants to lean back to laugh, because it’s so  _ dumb _ and cringey, but Hongjoong gasps audibly, his hands suddenly flying to clutch at Seonghwa’s shoulders.

 

“You’re a pervert,” Hongjoong breathes. He swallows, shifting underneath the older.

 

Seonghwa presses his lips against his throat. “You like that?” He asks. “Wanna be my cocksleeve, huh, Joong? Wanna be used like a toy?”

 

“You’re so gross,” Hongjoong moans, back arching as Seonghwa attacks his neck again, and he’s already so hard, so needy. He puts a hand on the back of the older’s head and pulls him closer, throwing his own head back as the assault continues.

 

“I don’t hear you denying it,” Seonghwa muses, pulling back and stares at the sight underneath him. Pretty little Hongjoong, eyes half-lidded, mouth falling open at each labored breath he takes, goosebumps all over his arms. He squirms a little bit, when Seonghwa pushes his shirt up to bunch around his chest, fingers tickling up his sides, before the warm palm brushes across his abdomen as it makes its way to a hard nipple.

 

Hongjoong is so responsive tonight, whimpering freely, shamelessly pleading for more, even as Seonghwa only gives him the barest of touches. They’ve done all of this before, which makes Seonghwa’s brows furrow, because Hongjoong is never like this, except…

 

Except when he’s been touch-starved.

 

At that thought, all the smug teasing Seonghwa is inflicting on the other stops. His amusement and libido cools down. His shoulders sag.

 

A shampoo commercial is playing. Seonghwa turns to look at the television, watches the girl run her dainty fingers through her digitally touched up hair. It’s midnight, and Hongjoong has been sitting here, waiting for him. The whole day, he hasn’t even given a thought to the other boy.

 

“Hyung?” Hongjoong calls, softly, hand gently circling around Seonghwa’s wrist. “Are you okay?”

 

After everything, it’s him who asks that. Hongjoong’s always been too nice for his own good, always forgiving, always so concerned for everyone around him, even as they doubt their feelings for him. He deserves better.

 

It’s almost funny, how Hongjoong’s eyes widen comically, as Seonghwa feels wetness run down his cheeks. He wipes at his eyes, smiling, putting a hand on Hongjoong’s chest as the younger moves to sit up. He pushes him back down, and envelopes him in a hug, arms around his waist as they press impossibly closer.

 

“I’m sorry,” Seonghwa mumbles, face buried in the crook of Hongjoong’s shoulder. He tries to hold it in, but the sob painfully forces its way out of his mouth.

 

“Hey,” Hongjoong pats his back. “We can work it out.” He knows.

 

“I’m taking a break tomorrow,” Seonghwa promises, pushing down the thought of all the work he would have to sacrifice. “We can go out. Catch a movie, or something. Maybe breakfast, if we can—”

 

Hongjoong cuts him off. “We don’t have to.” He sighs.

 

Seonghwa pulls back far enough to look at him. Hongjoong blinks, eyes glassy, and he averts his gaze, as if he suddenly wants to watch TV.

 

“I thought we were gonna work it out?” Seonghwa asks, voice small, and he  _ feels _ small, like everything he has worked hard for are now falling apart and slipping between the cracks of his fingers. It feels as though he had already lost everything, because it sounds like Hongjoong had just given up, right after he had given him hope.

 

“We are,” Hongjoong distractedly taps his fingers on Seonghwa’s shoulder, keeping his eyes there now instead. “Just. Not now. I don’t know.”

 

Helpless and small, Seonghwa croaks, “We’re gonna try.”

 

He swallows the lump in his throat, letting his eyes flutter close as he falls deeper into their embrace, the sight of all the unanswered emails still burned into the back of his mind. He promises, with all his heart and whatever is left in it, that he won’t let things get progressively worse, that he will strive to make them better.

 

Things  _ will _ get better.

**Author's Note:**

> That ending sucked ass !!!! But it had to end that way to tie with the other work in the series so yEET !! mga tanga
> 
> [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/lazlozuli)


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